


The Dreams We're Holding

by desperationandgin



Series: Market Price (The Companion Pieces) [13]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, my hot take on the apostles spoons, pregnancy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: Jamie gives Claire a present for the baby, a conversation ensues.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Market Price (The Companion Pieces) [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1289507
Comments: 49
Kudos: 192





	The Dreams We're Holding

“Now can you feel anything?”

For days, Claire has been able to catch flutters of life in her womb, and when she thinks it might be strong enough for Jamie to feel - and if he’s in the same room - there are mad grabs for his hands, trying to guide him toward the movement. It never happens in time, though, and she’s starting to feel a little guilty each time his eyes light up.

There’s hope now, with his hand resting flat on the spot where she planted him, but as soon as he grins, it fades. “I cannae be sure...I thought, mebbe…” If there was a kick, it was too fleeting, and he doesn’t feel anything else.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” she sighs, reaching out to let her thumb lightly graze the dashed scar on his cheek. “Maybe I should stop saying anything.”

“No, I dinna want to miss it,” Jamie counters stubbornly, though he does lean down to speak against her delicately-rounded belly. “Ye could make yerself known to me any day, _a leannan_ ,” he murmurs, then looks up at Claire, eyeing her also-round ( _and larger_ ) breasts. “I suppose I can just appreciate the visible evidence for now.”

“Don’t be filthy in front of the baby,” she admonishes, lightly smacking his shoulder.

“Sassenach, if the baby can hear us, then I dinna want to think about what filthy things it’s heard already.”

Their peals of laughter drown out the television, but he reaches for the remote and turns it off anyway before standing.

“Speakin’ of the bairn, I have somethin’ for ye. For both of ye,” he amends as he hesitates for a moment, then simply disappears down the hall to their bedroom.

Curious, Claire shifts so that she’s sitting upright on the couch, quietly pleading with the already-stubborn life inside of her to throw Jamie a bone. When he reappears, he’s carrying a small, darkly-stained wooden box with a fleur-de-lis pattern carved into the top.

“Jamie, that’s beautiful.” As soon as she says it, her forehead creases in confusion. “Have I seen it before?”

He smiles and sits beside her, holding out his gift. “Aye. It sat in the study at Lallybroch, tucked away on a shelf. ‘T’was only waiting on me to fetch it.”

“Why now?” she asks, taking it from him and running her fingers along the smooth wood.

“Ye’ll see,” he encourages, eyes on her face as she lifts the lid. 

Inside is the christening gown his grandfather wore, then his own father, then Willie, Jenny, and finally Jamie himself. He watches as Claire picks up the soft white garment, heart giving a tight pull at how reverently she handles it before he’s even told her the importance of the gown. She simply knows, and he explains quietly, eyes never leaving her face.

Pressing her lips together, she tries to find her words and battle the urge to cry at the same time. She’s touched and means to say so, but instead, her voice cracks when she speaks.

“I don’t have anything like this to give to our baby.”

Frowning in confusion and concern, Jamie moves the box so that it’s out of the way and he can take her hands. “What do ye mean? Ye’re giving our bairn _life_ , that’s no’ small thing, _mo chridhe_.”

“I only mean...I don’t have family heirlooms, or stories to pass on,” she manages to say even as her voice wavers. “No one from my family left anything behind.”

His heart feels as though it might break into pieces at her words, and he gathers her up right there on the couch, pulling her to his chest and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“We’re building our family, _a nighean_. This gown is ours now. Our bairn’s. And one day, one of the children will have this for their own. Ye’ll give it to them,” he decides, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “And ye’ll give our eldest daughter the pearls ye wore on our wedding day.” Jamie’s lips press to the side of her neck now, a comforting gesture to infuse peacefulness back into his wife. “Ye have all the love in yer heart to give. That’s no small thing, Claire,” he finishes softly.

Her arms are looped around him, mindful of her belly, and she closes her eyes, letting her thoughts drift and coalesce. Previous worry soothed, she offers him a new one.

“Both of my parents died when I was so young...I-I can’t remember them. My uncle loved me, dearly, but it was so unconventional, Jamie. What if I don’t know what to do?”

It boggles him, that the same woman he’s watched spend entire weekends playing with his nieces and nephews, taking care of them, doting on them, is now worried she doesn’t know how to be a mother. One hand moves to her belly, still able to cup a large span of it.

“I suspect there will be a fair amount we dinna ken, Sassenach. But we’ve learned quite a bit from Jenny over the years, aye?”

Claire nods, but she still looks doubtful. “It’s different when I’m only ‘Auntie Claire’ for as long as we’re at Lallybroch, or they’re here. I don’t have to worry if I’ve done something that will shape who they become as an adult.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Jamie chuckles, then reaches out to stroke her cheek softly with the pad of his thumb.

“Ye ken what I think?”

“No, but I need you to tell me,” she confesses quietly. They rearrange themselves first, so that he’s sitting at one end of the couch and her head is on his lap with her legs stretched out. One of his hands rests protectively ( _possessively_ ) on her stomach, and her fingers drag lightly up and down his forearm.

“I think bein’ a parent is terrifying. I didna ken what to do for yer morning sickness when ye couldna keep anythin’ down. I was worrit out of my mind, but ye taught me how to make the ginger tea. From then on, I always had it ready for ye. And I didna ken how to change a nappy ‘til Jen showed me how.” His free hand rests on top of her head, gently massaging.

“What we dinna ken, we’ll learn together,” he promises her. “And ye have a sister-in-law who will be more than happy tae tell ye what to do,” he adds with a fond roll of his eyes.

That pulls a laugh from her, and Claire reaches up to cradle the side of his face, her thumb sweeping across his bottom lip. “Together, Jamie,” she repeats. Tugging him down to meet her, she nuzzles against the side of his nose. “I love you.”

Jamie’s mouth drifts down to meet hers, kissing her thoroughly before dropping softer, gentler kisses against her cheek. “I love ye, Sassenach.” His hand rests lightly over her breast and drifts until he can feel the beating of her heart. “I’ve been watching yer body change as ye grow our bairn. Ye give yerself to our child every day,” he murmurs.

“Giving life isn’t the same as knowing how to sustain it. Nurture it.” She knows, somewhere in the back of her hormone-addled mind that she isn’t lacking in warmth, but the words make it out anyway.

Jamie’s look of admonishment confirms it. “Ye’re the most nurturing person I know.”

Tugging at his hand, she kisses his knuckles in silent gratitude for his words. “But what did my mother do when I fell down? Did she sing silly songs when I was upset? Did she soothe me at night by rocking me or…” She isn’t sure what the other options are, and she trails off, looking at her husband helplessly.

Moving his hand from her chest to the side of her face, Jamie lets the back of his fingers glide across her skin. “In the moment, ye’ll ken what to do, or we’ll work it out, the two of us. Aye?”

Claire closes her eyes, pressing her cheek into his hand. “Aye,” she agrees with a small smile. He’s never failed to find the right thing to say, and every now and then, she wonders how he does it. “Thank you, Jamie.”

He hums, helping her sit up. “I’m only speaking true.”

“And you gave me a wonderful gift,” she adds, holding onto his hand as he stands and helps her once more. “Something for all of our children.”

“First present for our bairn.” He pulls her close to kiss her forehead, smiling when he feels her hands rest against his lower back.

“It’s only fitting that it’s come from you.” With a tender kiss to his neck, they hold one another in the living room until he simply lifts her off her feet, carrying her to their room. It makes her laugh, and she rests her head against his shoulder. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Aye, but why bother when ye have me?” 

She laughs again as he places her gently on the bed, then sighs contentedly as he joins her, curling up in his new sleeping position - head by her belly, as if in his sleep he’ll be the first to know if anything’s amiss.

She enjoys it; the first time he slept there it broke her heart wide open, and she’d somehow loved him more than she had the moment before. Now, her fingers reach down to tug at his curls affectionately. 

“You spoil me, you know,” Claire hums, closing her eyes.

“‘Tis my job,” Jamie replies seriously, though he kisses her stomach as he does. “I’ll always take care of ye.”

Their eyes meet, and she smiles warmly at him. “I’ve never doubted it.”

Before he can say anything else, Jamie glances at her stomach sharply - she felt it too, an insistent little kick. Both of them pause, his hand not moving from that spot as they wait. The five seconds between moments feel like hours before finally, there’s another movement, like something rolling under her skin, and Jamie’s eyes widen in awe.

“There’s our bairn,” he breathes out, eyes focused on the spot his hand is covering, even as his head drops to press kisses all around the immediate area. “ _A leannan_ , can ye hear me?” he murmurs. “‘Tis yer da.” When another kick comes, he laughs and looks up at his wife in sheer joy. “What a braw little _wean_.”

The tears that were threatening retreat as Claire laughs in delight, covering his hand with her own. “Now that you’ve felt movement, what do you think, Da?”

He smiles, pressing the curve of his lips to her stomach for a moment before responding. “I think ye’ve given me the best gift ye ever could, Sassenach. I’ve wanted to be a father for most of my adult life. Feeling our bairn inside of ye, Claire…”

It makes it _real_ , makes everything he’s working for hold more weight

“Ye gave me a purpose when ye found me, _a nighean_. A reason to work harder. And now…” He’s just as emotional as she is this time, a tear dropping to the apple of her cheek. “Ye gave my life meaning, aye? Everything I am is for _you_.”

She doesn’t know what to say, a lump in her throat making it impossible anyway. They breathe one another in, both on their sides and holding onto one another. After a soft brush of her lips across his cheek, she guides his hand to her chest, over her heart.

“Come love me, Jamie,” she whispers quietly, sighing as he cups her breast and rises just enough to envelop her against his body.

When they’re still together in the quiet after, he returns to his new sleeping position and traces his fingers lightly over her skin.

“Sleep now, _mo nighean donn_. Dream of our bairn.”

By the time he says it, she’s already half-way there.


End file.
